


Always Willing

by starchase



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, PWP, Panty Kink, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:13:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starchase/pseuds/starchase
Summary: This is a game between them, and it isn't one they always play, but when they do, Prompto always finds himself overwhelmed by the entire thing, at seeing Ignis like this, at being told what to do. He knows that when he plays along well, his reward will be all the sweeter for it. He wants that so badly right now.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't written porn in a very, very, long time and I'm probably terribly rusty but I just had to get this image for promnis out of my mind, so here it is! I'm very sorry (I'm not at all). This is shameless porn, only porn, all porn, with some feelings, but the plot IS the porn. So sit back, relax, and listen to Lullaby by The Cure as you read it, which is what I listened to while I was writing. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

“Now, Prompto.” Ignis' voice is smooth, but there's that edge to it that has goosebumps prickling across Prompto's exposed skin. “You're going to behave yourself and do as I say, aren't you?” His eyes are levelled at Prompto, a heat in his gaze that matches the heat beginning to uncurl low in Prompto's belly.  
  
He gulps, his tongue thick in his mouth, but nods his head. _Yes, oh yes,_ he thinks, because he's always so happy and so eager to do whatever Ignis asks of him.  
  
Ignis smiles, pleased. “Good, because you remember the last time you misbehaved, don't you?”  
  
Oh, does Prompto remember. It's etched itself into his brain, a delicious, tantalising memory to look back on. A shudder runs through him visibly, and he hears a low breath escape Ignis at the sight of it.  
  
“Always so willing,” Ignis says, voice fond, full of care and feeling. “Always so eager to please me, aren't you?” His hand runs down Prompto's body, fingers touching lightly, a teasing touch that has Prompto's skin flushing. He nods, and a soft groan escapes him, as Ignis' fingers toy with one of his nipples, roughly teasing the sensitive skin until Prompto's breaths fall heavily from him. “What was that?” Ignis says, twisting the small nub of flesh a little harder.  
  
Prompto swallows thickly, feels a little embarrassed at how easy it is for Ignis to unravel him. “Yes,” he answers. “I am. Always.”  
  
Ignis, who is still clothed, presses the length of his body against Prompto's, his free hand takes hold of Prompto's chin, turns their faces until he can lean in and kiss him. Prompto sighs into the kiss, presses himself closer to Ignis. Ignis' mouth is hot against Prompto's, and almost everything that he wants. He feels fingers trail down his chest, his abdomen, skirting the quite obvious arousal hidden beneath the silk folds of his panties, the only item of clothing left on Prompto at all. Ignis had stripped him of all else, so slowly, with such care, but when he'd seen what Prompto had chosen to wear, an almost sinful sounding groan had escaped him. Prompto enjoys surprising Ignis, catching him off guard, because so often it's Ignis doing it to him instead.

Those fingers continue to skirt around Prompto's ever growing problem, instead stroking just beneath, over the panties, and Prompto squirms, a delicious thrill of delight running through him at the way the soft silk rubs against his heated skin. Ignis pulls back from the kiss, breathless himself, and just watches Prompto, as his fingers explore, touching and stroking.

Ignis' name falls softly from Prompto's lips, unable to help but arch lightly into that touch; he wants more, though, he always wants more, all of what Ignis can give him. The delicious press of fingers leaves him suddenly, and Prompto whines, looks down to see what's happening.

“Now now,” Ignis chides softly. “You said you'd be good for me tonight, darling.”  
  
Prompto bites down on another whine that wants to escape him, and nodes mutely at Ignis instead, he'll be good. This is a game between them, and it isn't one they always play, but when they do, Prompto always finds himself overwhelmed by the entire thing, at seeing Ignis like this, at being told what to do. He knows that when he plays along well, his reward will be all the sweeter for it. He wants that so badly right now.

He understands then, just why Ignis' touches have stopped, because a moment later he feels those long, skilled fingers pushing the panties aside, feels a sudden shock of cold against his super-heated skin, and a moment later, Ignis has pushed a finger inside of him. Prompto let's out a heavy breath, let's his head fall back against the pillows, and allows himself to enjoy the sensation. It's not long before Ignis has added two more fingers, and Prompto's legs are shaking from how skilfully they move within him, fill him, a sensation he can never get enough of.

He feels Ignis' fingers twist, and a body-wracking sensation pulses through him, pulls a louder moan from Prompto's body, has him arching off the bed. His cock is _so_ hard, trapped beneath his panties, and he can't fight the desire to touch himself, give himself some relief, as Ignis is too focused on his fingers being elsewhere just then. So Prompto reaches down, palms himself through silk, and groans again at the sensation.  
  
“We'll have none of that, Prompto,” Ignis says, his voice stern, his free hand removing Prompto's, delaying his relief, and then the fingers that are still inside of him twist again, pulling another groan from Prompto.

“Ignis, please,” he murmurs. He wonders how long this game will last, because he's already so desperate and needy.  
  
There's a soft breath of laughter against his ear, before teeth are nipping at Prompto's earlobe, roughly, and he shudders against the fingers still working inside him. “Not just yet.” Then his fingers are gone, and Prompto feels the sudden loss acutely. “We're not finished yet.” There is promise in his words, behind the heated tone. Prompto looks Ignis over, and he can tell that Ignis is also getting worked up from these ministrations. There's a heat to his eyes, a flush high on his cheekbones, clear signals that Ignis is enjoying himself. Enjoying _Prompto_ , and that thought has all kinds of effects on Prompto's body.  
  
“Just lay there quietly a moment, love,” Ignis says, presses a soft kiss to Prompto's forehead. Despite their game, there is always the underlying sense of care and love, which sends Prompto's chest swelling with an entirely different emotion for a moment.  
  
He does as he's told, though, keeps his hands firmly to his sides, ignoring the burning desire to touch himself, and instead focuses on watching Ignis. Without any kind of stimulation, Prompto feels the immediate burn of desire fade into a smaller, but still consistent, fire within him; he thinks he knows part of what Ignis' game is going to be tonight.

Ignis, still maddeningly fully dressed, climbs from the bed, reaches into a drawer on the side table, and pulls a few things out, the sight of which pull the breath from Prompto. _Oh._  
  
He eyes the toy that Ignis places on the bed, feeling his heart begin to thump heavily inside his chest, just imagining. There's also well used bottle, which had already been sitting on the bed, an unopened condom, and lastly a length of soft, purple ribbon. Prompto realises the ribbon is almost the same shade of pale purple as the panties he's wearing. His eyes move to meet Ignis' own.  
  
He isn't aware he's asking a question until Ignis speaks, offers him an answer. “That is just in case you can't behave yourself.” His heated gaze all but burns into Prompto, and Prompto finds himself almost wanting to misbehave.

“I'll be good,” he promises. The smile Ignis offers in return is almost reward enough, and Prompto delights in it.  
  
Ignis bends down towards him again, captures his mouth in a rough, heated kiss. Fingers brush through Prompto's hair, tugging lightly. “You are always good, Prompto,” Ignis whispers in a breath against Prompto's lips. “You're always so, so good for me.”  
  
A soft whimper escapes Prompto, as Ignis' tongue traces the curve of his lips, and he's parting them for more, his arms moving to grip Ignis' shoulders in a tight hold, wishing Ignis was closer so he could rock their bodies together. But Ignis knows what Prompto wants, and keeps the rest of his body angled away, frustratingly so.  
  
He feels Ignis' hand again, pushing at his panties, slipping them aside, though not removing them. The fire is once again building within Prompto, and having his cock restricted by the soft, tantalising press of silk is going to drive him crazy before long. Then a gasp of surprise escapes him, followed by a long, low, moan, as he feels Ignis press the toy against him. He shudders against the sensation, his legs shaking, but it's so good, it's so fucking _good_ , the feeling of being filled, that Prompto's head begins to spin a little bit. He's learned, during his time with Ignis, to be much less ashamed of just how much he likes being filled and fucked, because he's seen how shameless enjoyment of it effects Ignis himself, and it's always like a fuel to the fire for Prompto, spurs him on, seeing any kind of effect he can have on Ignis.  
  
So he doesn't try to hold back the shudders that travel through his body, doesn't hold back on the quiet, breathy sighs of enjoyment that fall from his lips. His hips move down to meet the pressure within him, and he hears the shaky, stuttering breath that leaves Ignis in turn. Moments later, and Prompto is full, has taken in what Ignis wants to give him, and the sensation is driving him wild.  
  
“I-Ignis,” he gasps, his hands tightening their hold on Ignis' shoulders, his nails leaving little crescent-shaped marks behind. He feels as a breath shudders throughout Ignis' entire body.  
  
“Good, Prompto,” Ignis whispers. “Very good.” Ignis moves his hand, and Prompto feels as Ignis begins to fuck him slowly with the toy. It wrings another moan from him, feeling that pressure moving so slowly within him. It's maddening, frustrating as anything, and Prompto fucking loves every second of it.  
  
He really, really wants to touch himself now, he's painfully hard, and having the toy inside him but his panties still on, pushed aside, has them almost twisted around him, and every movement has his heated, sensitive cock rubbing deliciously hard against the soft silk. That feeling alone is going to drive him wild, he thinks.  
  
Ignis is whispering soft words of encouragement as he watches what he's doing to Prompto, green eyes filled with awe at the sight before him, at Prompto's slow unravelling and undoing. His lips press soft, hot kisses across Prompto's jaw, down his neck, before his tongue follows the lines of Prompto's collarbones, revelling in the taste of him. “So good for me. Well done. You take this so well.”  
  
Prompto murmurs something incoherent, hips pushing down harder, wanting more, needing more. Despite not being allowed to touch himself, Prompto's entire body is full of heat and electricity and he thinks, if Ignis keeps up this slow fucking of him with the toy, he might just come without his cock being touched at all. He's a little embarrassed by the idea, but he also thinks that Ignis would find it really hot. Trying to imagine Ignis' reaction pulls a groan from him.  
  
“Are you getting close, darling?” Ignis asks, though he knows, by now he knows very well, just what that shaking in Prompto's thighs means.  
  
Prompto tries to answer, but coherency has left him, and his words are a jumbled mess that end in a soft sigh of pleasure. Ignis is moving so slowly, and it's a delicious, frustrating sensation within him, a slow build up of heat inside of him.  
  
Ignis thrusts the toy in harder, a rougher touch, and Prompto is arching his back into the sensation in delight. “I didn't catch that, Prompto.”  
  
He has to swallow hard a couple of times, try to force his mind from the ever increasing building of heat within him, to try and focus on what Ignis wants from him. “Y-yes,” he whispers, a blush covering his cheeks at the admission.  
  
Ignis leans down, though, and kisses the blush spreading across Prompto's cheeks, and pulls his hand away, although he leaves the toy where it is, the pressure of it still filling Prompto.  
  
“A breather, then,” he says, and presses soft, tender kisses across Prompto's bare skin, across the curve of his shoulder, follows the line of his torso with his tongue, nips softly with his teeth at Prompto's hip, leaving tiny little marks behind.

Prompto's breath slowly starts to even out, the heat within him once again dulling down into something more manageable, but it never goes out. There's no way it can, not with Ignis paying such careful attention to the rest of his body, not with that pressure still inside him. Prompto starts to come back to himself a little more from the haze his mind has become.  
  
“Now, love, I want you to do something for me.”  
  
“Yes,” Prompto agrees without hesitation, wonders briefly if he should be embarrassed by how ready and willing he is to do whatever Ignis asks of him. “Anything, Iggy.”  
  
Ignis presses a kiss of reward to Prompto's lips and their mouths linger for a moment; it's the kind of kiss that they both lose themselves in. Then Ignis pulls away, climbs off the bed, and stands at the edge, where he just observes Prompto for a long, quiet moment.  
  
The weight of those green eyes on him, following every line and inch of his body, appraising every part of him, has Prompto flushing, feeling a little self conscious at the desire he can see in Ignis' gaze. It falls heavily on him, and he's only partially aware of how he must look in this moment, naked but for his panties, his cock straining against the fabric, his skin hot and flushed, chest rising and falling with his not quite even breaths, and his legs spread wide, toy still visible where it sits nestled inside of him.  
  
“Beautiful,” Ignis murmurs, and there's no doubt to the sincerity of his statement; it's obvious to Prompto just how much Ignis is enjoying the sight before him. But because the sight is Prompto himself, he can't quite hide his modesty, even though it is really sexy, he thinks, to see Ignis practically worshipping him with his eyes.  
  
“Now, Prompto,” Ignis says, and his voice sounds thick with desire. He's still fully dressed, but Prompto can see the tell-tale sign of Ignis' own arousal, the fabric of his trousers pulling tight around him. His mouth goes dry at the thought. “I want to watch you fuck yourself with that toy.” Ignis has to pause then, to swallow heavily, and Prompto's glad he's not the only one suffering these physical side effects from their play. “And imagine that it's me inside of you.”  
  
Oh, gods. All the blood in Prompto's body goes straight to one, single, point, and he feels himself throbbing and straining against the silky confines.  
  
He reaches down his own body with one hand, nods his head at Ignis' words, and feels for the edge of the toy. He takes hold of it, his grip a little shaky, and his first couple of thrusts are a little weak, but even so it feels so good inside of him.  
  
“Come now,” Ignis whispers, eyes never leaving Prompto. “You know I can do better than that.”  
  
Prompto whimpers, tries to make his hand obey him and tighten his grip, but he manages to do so, and now he's moving the toy with a little more force, steadily, inside of him. His other hand is free, and he wants so badly to touch himself with it, free himself from his panties, wrap a hand around heated skin and match to the pace he's setting up with the toy inside of himself.  
  
He's not aware that his hand is moving without his permission, snaking down his body, until he hears Ignis' sharp tone. “ _Prompto.”_  
  
His face flushes, and he pulls his hand away forcefully. He's almost burning with his need to be touched there, though.  
  
“Do I need to tie you up?” Ignis asks, and Prompto is forcefully reminded of the last item Ignis had brought out to play with, the ribbon. He wants to be good, he really, really wants to be good for Ignis, but he also really wants to feel his arms pulled up above him, wrists tied together with the soft ribbon, himself completely open and vulnerable in front of Ignis. The thought is overwhelming, and he shudders at the mere idea of it. His hips move roughly now, rocking against the toy moving inside of him.  
  
“I...” and Prompto's attempt at words are drowned out by a quiet moan, as his hips meet the thrust of his hand in such a way. “Y-yes, Ignis. I want to...I can't help myself.”  
  
His words have a physical effect on Ignis, pull the breath straight from his body, it seems, and Prompto loves watching as that happens.

Ignis sighs, as if disappointed, but Prompto knows that really, Ignis enjoys the thought of it as much as he himself does. “If you can't control yourself, then measures must be taken,” Ignis says, moving back onto the bed, picks up the ribbon in one hand.  
  
Prompto lets out a soft whine as his hand is pulled away, the toy stilling once again within him, keeping him full, but wanting more. There's a sharp nip against his shoulder, and Prompto swallows the next whine that was going to leave him. “And you promised to be good.”  
  
Ignis takes hold of Prompto's hands, with care, though, and raises them above Prompto's head, ties his wrists together easily with the ribbon. He looks to Prompto for confirmation, silently asking if it's okay, and Prompto nods back.  
  
“I'm sorry,” he says, and marvels at how he's still capable of any kind of words at all, with the way his entire body feels wrung out, strung out, and every nerve ending is pulsing with electricity, his hot skin sensitive to every tiny touch.  
  
“I know you are, darling,” Ignis says, pressing a soft kiss to the place he'd bitten only moments ago. “Behave yourself for just a little longer, and I'll show you how much I appreciate your apology.”  
  
The thought is enough to pull an involuntary sound from Prompto.  
  
Ignis waits a few moments, body close but not quite touching Prompto's, as he waits for Prompto to calm down a little. “Alright?” He asks, and Prompto nods.  
  
Ignis' hand moves down Prompto's body, and he can feel it then, as the toy moves against him, and then a sensation fills him suddenly, followed by a soft _bzz_ ing sound. The toy is vibrating within him, on the lowest setting it seems, so it's a soft, consistent pulse of pleasure. His head rests back against the pillows, and he tugs involuntarily at his arms, feels the ribbon rubbing against his wrists, reminding him that they must remain above his head, if he wants an end to this delicious, frustrating, torture.  
  
Ignis has climbed from the bed again, and Prompto finds himself watching him. Ignis' own eyes never leave Prompto, and finally, he thinks, finally, Ignis starts taking his own clothes off. He peels each item off of himself maddeningly slowly, seems to enjoy the soft sounds Prompto let's out, having lost control of them some time ago now, it seems. His shirt comes off with such care, followed by his trousers, then socks, and eventually, _fucking finally_ Prompto thinks, his briefs. And still, Ignis takes his time, folds his clothes carefully over one of the chairs, takes his glasses off and sets them aside, before he turns back to Prompto.  
  
Prompto whines at the sight of the other man before him, because Ignis is so very, very hard, his toned, muscular body is flushed from his own desires, and he's so fucking beautiful Prompto almost can't stand it. What has he done to be given this sight before him, this gift, he wonders, because Ignis is far, far more than he's ever deserved.  
  
The toy continues to pulse pleasantly inside him, pulling all kinds of other sounds from Prompto, which, if the twitch of his cock is any indication, Ignis is thoroughly enjoying. Prompto's hips move against the bed as he tries to get some kind of relief, tries to push the toy further into himself, fuck himself against it, anything,  
  
“You look stunning like this, love,” Ignis whispers, and his own eyes are as hungry on Prompto as Prompto's are on him. He takes in the sight before him, even better now than before, arms tied up above his head, legs open and inviting, so very inviting, for whatever else Ignis desires.  
  
“Will you do something for me?” Ignis asks, voice low, as he climbs back onto the bed once more, moves easily up Prompto's body, until Ignis is straddling his chest, knees to either side.  
  
Prompto nods, so worked up by this point that he's willing to do anything Ignis asks, without question. Ignis can see this, written plainly across Prompto's face, and the sight pulls at his chest.  
  
He shuffles a little closer, his cock close to Prompto's face, and Prompto knows already exactly what Ignis wants.  
  
“Open up, my love,” he whispers, his fingers moving to Prompto's hair, grasping tightly, a contrast to his soft words.  
  
With a moan, Prompto does as he's asked, and takes Ignis inside his mouth. He feels Ignis shudder against him, within him, hears the groan that tumbles from Ignis' lips. And then Prompto puts his own to good use, treating Ignis with all the care, and love, and pent up desire that he possibly can, worshipping the cock in his mouth with his lips and his tongue. He feels Ignis' hot skin throb against his tongue, feels how Ignis' body shudders against his chest, but all Prompto can do is suck, his hands held above his head, the toy still vibrating within him, his own cock still painfully, tortuously, trapped beneath that clinging fabric.  
  
But he's enjoying the effect his mouth is having on Ignis, and he sucks harder now, feeling fingers twisting into his hair.  
  
“ _Prompto_ ,” Ignis gasps, his own name a thick, almost guttural cry that sends even more heat, if at all possible, to Prompto's aching cock. Then, “stop,” he hears. He knows it's because Ignis is close, and it seems that Ignis isn't quite ready to let either of them seek relief yet. Prompto almost wants to cry, because he's so hard, and his body is so worked up, he needs to be able to release the burning heat within him. He's shaking with his desire, against Ignis, against the toy.  
  
Ignis slips out of Prompto's mouth, and the groan he let's out sounds a lot like regret. He shifts further down Prompto's body, and finally, thankfully, switches the toy off, before carefully pulling it from Prompto's body. The loss is sudden, and Prompto whines, already missing the wonderful burn that had settled within him at the pressure.  
  
“We're nearly done, love,” Ignis whispers above him, pulls Prompto from his focus on the sensations of his own body. There's a hand wiping across Prompto's sweaty forehead, and bright, green eyes aimed at his face, an almost tender look in them for a moment, before the heat of desire burns that away. “You're being so good for me now. Just one last thing.”  
  
Prompto thinks he's going to cry, if there's anything else that happens, before he can come. He's sure Ignis can see this on his face, because Ignis knows him well by now, but Prompto's too far gone to be concerned at how open and shameless Ignis has driven him to be. “Just lie back, catch your breath a moment.”  
  
His head falls back against the pillows, eyes half-closing, as he lets himself just float through the haze all of this playing and desire has built up around him. Prompto's so on edge, but the brief reprieve let's him catch his breath.  
  
A deep groan pulls Prompto from the swirling of his own thoughts, and his eyes focus on Ignis, watches as Ignis' chest heaves with his heavy breaths, as his body rocks against Prompto's. It's then that Prompto realises he can feel the hard press of Ignis' cock rubbing against his stomach. His eyes wander down to the sight, and then down further, only to see that Ignis has his fingers inside of himself, and is quietly rocking against his own hand, and Prompto.  
  
Watching Ignis fuck his own fingers is doing all kinds of things to Prompto, but his mind doesn't short-circuit properly until it occurs to him _why_ Ignis has his fingers inside of himself. _Gods._  
  
He knows he's not going to last for long, if he gets to bury his aching, but poorly neglected cock, inside of Ignis.  
  
“Iggy,” he says, voice coming out strained; he can't tear his eyes away from the sight before him, it's incredible. “I don't think...I can't...”  
  
A soft laugh falls from Ignis' lips, only to turn into a breathy gasp a moment later, as his body shudders deliciously around his fingers. Prompto knows what that sound means, has acquainted himself with its reason before, intimately, with his own fingers. His hands twitch, wishing they can partake in the sight before him, and he let's out a frustrated sound. “You can,” Ignis says, tries to sound firm, but his voice comes out strangled. It's good, Prompto thinks, to see how Ignis has been effected by all this play. “You can last at least for as long as I can,” Ignis finishes, and pulls his fingers from himself then, with a soft groan.  
  
There's a look in his eyes now, as he stares down at Prompto, a look of command that Prompto doesn't want to disobey. Instead he nods, whispers, “Okay.”  
  
“Good,” Ignis murmurs. His hand moves down Prompto's body, palms him softly through his panties, laughs softly at the dampness of Prompto's desire staining the silk. “My my,” he whispers as he pulls Prompto out of his panties. The touch against his bare skin, finally, sends Prompto's head reeling, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to make sure he doesn't come right then. All this hovering so close to the edge repeatedly has built him up to almost a frenzy of heat and want and need, all starting to boil over within him. He's sure Ignis can see this written plainly across his face. “Is this all for me,” he teases, his fingers just lightly, barely, tracing over Prompto's heated skin. “So wet with your desire, my love.”  
  
Ignis' voice is doing all kinds of things within him, his thick, heated tone a shiver following the length of Prompto's spine.  
  
“Please,” he whispers. “Please, Ignis.” He almost wants to cry, now Ignis is touching him, at how badly he just needs to come.  
  
“Alright, Prompto,” Ignis agrees, leans down to press an almost tender kiss to his gasping lips. “You've earned it, you've been good for me tonight.”  
  
Prompto whimpers in pleasure at those words. He whimpers again as he feels Ignis roll a condom over his aching length. And then Ignis lifts his hips, and guides Prompto inside of him. They both gasp at the sensation, Ignis at being filled, and Prompto at the heat that wraps around him, at his cock finally, finally receiving some much needed attention, and oh, he thinks to himself, this is the best kind of attention he could be receiving right now. Ignis feels so good, his body wrapped around him, taking him in completely.  
  
He feels a hand against his thigh, Ignis pushing the panties the rest of the way off, before pulling Prompto's leg to wrap around his hip, angling his lower body up just a little. Prompto finds himself wondering, until a moment later, and Ignis has his fingers pressed within him. It's not as much pressure as the toy, but Ignis knows exactly how to move his fingers to please Prompto, all the same, and he's gasping a moment later, rocking his hips up into Ignis, before moving back down to press against those fingers.  
  
Prompto hears his name, realises suddenly Ignis has said it a few times, is trying to get his attention, and Prompto's eyes meet Ignis', coming back to himself, if only distantly. Everything feels so good, and it's a struggle not to just sink into this hot, steady, rhythmic bliss. “Touch me, Prompto,” Ignis says, and as always, Prompto gladly complies, willing to do whatever is asked of him.  
  
His hands are still tied together, as he pulls them from above his head. It's awkward at first, with his hands tied, Ignis bucking against his touch anyway, until Prompto manages to get one hand wrapped firmly around Ignis' cock, rubbing almost roughly against the heated, throbbing skin beneath his fingers.  
  
It's then that Prompto really does allow himself to just sink into every sensation surrounding him, filling him, rushing through him. His hand is on Ignis' cock, his strokes fast, as Ignis rocks his body against Prompto's, fucking himself hard, with rough thrusts, on Prompto's cock, all the while with those fingers still pressing inside of him. Everything is hot, too hot, and his entire body feels sensitive to even the air around him. Ignis feels so good above him, within him, around him, that Prompto's on the edge, whimpering and moaning, having lost all sense of reality. All it takes is for Ignis' fingers to press up into that spot, for Ignis' hips to press down hard and just _so_ against Prompto's, to finally send him over the edge, his entire body trembling and shaking with the force of it.  
  
He's lost control of the hand on Ignis, doesn't even realise it, but Ignis doesn't need that touch any more either, the sight of Prompto trembling beneath him, skin flushed, face lost and twisted into such an expression of absolute abandon, that that's all he needs. He'd worked himself to the edge, with all his teasing of Prompto, that it doesn't take much more to have Ignis coming, a strangled, guttural grunting of Prompto's name as he does, in a mess across Prompto's chest. Prompto's too far gone to mind.  
  
They collapse against each other then, their bodies a sweaty, stained, mess of limbs gone limp after everything they've done tonight. Ignis manages to raise his hips enough to let Prompto slip out of him, before he settles against him once again. Prompto feels fingers stroking softly through his hair, but it's a slow process, coming back to himself. He can't quite beat away the haze that all the lust and desire and sex has built up around him, and his body is still trembling from the after shocks. He's never come so hard, he thinks, has never been quite so worked up before. It was almost torture all that teasing, but the end result, Prompto thinks vaguely to himself, was entirely worth it.  
  
His breaths are still heavy, but starting to ease out a little, and he looks over at Ignis, pressed up against him, his eyes closed as he works himself through his own after sensations. He's a sight to behold, naked, skin glistening with sweat, hair an unstyled mess across his forehead, and Prompto knows it's a sight he'll never tire of. If these are the kinds of games that Ignis wants to play sometimes, he's more than happy to oblige him in future.  
  
But maybe not for awhile, he thinks, because this was intensity on a level he's not sure he can handle all the time. He still likes all the other ways they have sex, too. Despite himself, with fingers running through his hair, his own hand drawing loose, meaningless patterns against Ignis' lower back, Prompto's mind drifts slowly to the thought of a next time. He wonders, only vaguely, what it might be like, if he was watching Ignis, getting to tease him in turn, have him almost begging for Prompto to just let him come. The thought sends a delicious thrill down his spine. It's enough of a shiver for Ignis to feel too, seeing as their bodies are pressed so close together.  
  
“Hmm?” Ignis murmurs, eyes opening to look into Prompto's face. The intensity has left the green of his eyes now, replaced instead by a sleepy, but fond, look over at Prompto. It's enough to have Prompto's heart swell, to be honest. “Are you alright, love?”  
  
Prompto nods, offering a smile to assure Ignis of his well being, albeit a slightly weak, tired smile. All the energy has seeped from his body, leaving him boneless and weak, but content. “Just,” he says, then stops, feeling embarrassed at the idea of voicing his own wants. It seems silly to be embarrassed at all, after just how much control of himself Prompto had let go of around Ignis there, but still.  
  
“Tell me,” Ignis says, softly insistent.  
  
Prompto swallows, glances away from the intensity of Ignis' gaze. “Just thinking of next time,” he says. “And h-how it might be, uh, might be nice to. To tease you a little, instead.” He feels heat fill his face, and wants to hide, but Ignis doesn't let him, one hand moving from Prompto's hair to cup his cheek, fingers pressing tenderly to his flushed skin.  
  
“If that's what you want,” Ignis says, and his voice is full of so much love and care, Prompto can't help but meet his eyes again. “Then I'd be delighted to.”  
  
The flush that covers him this time is less embarrassment, and more the low burn of a future delight. A very low burn, because Prompto can't imagine any part of him reacting to anything other than the will to sleep, just then.  
  
“O-okay,” he says, unable to hide his smile at the thought.  
  
“But not just yet, I'm afraid,” Ignis says, lowering his head and pulling Prompto closer, until Prompto's head is nestled comfortable beneath Ignis', face pressed into his toned chest.  
  
“Not yet,” Prompto agrees, feeling all the energy leave him, and his eyes sliding shut. He's been thoroughly undone, and now all he can think of is sinking against Ignis and the bed, and letting sleep claim him. Although a thought pokes at him, realising that some of him isn't feeling quite as comfortable. “We're all messy still,” he says.  
  
Ignis hums, a sleepy sound, and Prompto knows that he's losing the fight against being awake. “We'll shower in the morning,” he says. It's unlike Ignis, Prompto thinks, so he must really be feeling uncharacteristically lazy. If this was Ignis after everything he'd done to Prompto, how might Ignis be if he was on the receiving end, he wonders. He's looking forward to finding out.  
  
“Oh, I love having sex in the shower,” Prompto answers, only partially aware of the words he's saying. There's a sudden teasing pinch to his nipple, and Prompto laughs quietly at the warning.  
  
“if you stop talking long enough for us to sleep,” Ignis says, though he doesn't sound annoyed at all, not really, a lilt of sleepy amusement laced through his words instead, “then I may consider fucking you in the shower in the morning.”  
  
The thought is a nice one, but distantly nice, as Prompto has nothing else left in him to give tonight, except the will to give into sleep, which already has it's claws firmly hooked into him by now, as he settles both against Ignis and the softness of the bed beneath him. “Yay, I hope so.”  
  
There's another light pinch to his nipple, but then Prompto feels a kiss pressed against the top of his head. “Sleep,” Ignis says.  
  
And as always, Prompto is happy to do whatever Ignis asks of him.


End file.
